Return to Gallifrey, chapter 20
June 30, 2008

After what had been quite a climb, the two arrived at the top of the enormous stair mountain. Before them was a magnificent castle-like structure encased in a transparent bubble.


Martha noticed, however, that there appeared to be no point of entry. The clear, glass walls seemed to her quite solid. Before she could bring this up, however, the Doctor was already working away, feeling along the sides and occasionally whipping out the Sonic Screwdriver, muttering all the while.


“If I could just remember how to get in…” he murmured, his brow furrowed. “Let’s see…what was it…three to the left and…six down? Or was it seven?”


Martha remained silent, knowing it best to keep her mouth shut when the Doctor was in this kind of state.


“Wait a second…here it is…aha!” the Doctor cried triumphantly. His thumb on what appeared to be the correct location, he scanned it with his Screwdriver.


“Welcome to the Time Lord Citadel,” said a female-sounding computer’s voice. “Please state your Identity.”


“The Doctor,” he replied confidently.


Nothing appeared to have changed. “Second request,” said the computer, “Please state your Identity.”


“Oh, that’s right…we’ve switched to ID numbers now, haven’t we? Those prawns.” The Doctor cleared his throat. “Time Lord Nine-Five-Six-Zero-Four-dash-Eight,” he said, with clear difficulty remembering.


“Identity: Affirmed,” said the voice. “Welcome to the Citadel.”


For a second Martha thought that the bubble was going to collapse as it gave a great shudder similar to that of an earthquake, but instead, a door-sized opening appeared to melt out of a small, rectangular section of the glass. The team let out a cry of triumph.


The Doctor had to duck in order to pass through the threshold. “Those other Time Lords,” he said, shaking his head, “they’re all so damn short…come on, Martha!”


Still grinning, Martha passed through the doorway. Almost immediately thereafter, several alarms began to shriek around them.


“Non-Time Lord detected at entrance,” stated the computer’s voice calmly, “All officials please report to the front of the Citadel. Non-Time Lord detected…”


“What?!” cried the Doctor.


Contrary to popular belief
June 30, 2008

I do in fact have a Life Outside of the Internet. For instance, this past week I’ve been volunteering at my favorite theatre company (the one where Cabaret went on) to help out with the kids aged 8-11. It was really fun and pictures of the experience are up on my MySpace. Anyway, all that is explanatory of my absence.

That webcast thing may not be as frequent as I’d like. Perhaps only when I’m feeling charismatic.


And CAFEPRESS ARE STUPID, EVIL THINGS. They took down all of the products in my shop, due to the “Reference to Doctor Who”.


There are THOUSANDS of Doctor Who items up on wordpress, for God’s sake. It’s where I got my University of Gallifrey shirt.


Ahh well.

Have a Chapter 20.


Return to Gallifrey, Chapter 19
June 16, 2008

Martha took in a sharp breath of absolute horror at what surrounded her. “What…what happened?” she breathed, afraid of the answer.

“War,” the Doctor answered his eyes misty. “Simple as that. Come on. I…I want to see if anyone else is still–”

He swallowed the last word, turning away.

They roamed the Heart, looking for any sign of life whatsoever, but the chaos surrounding them seemed determined to tell them otherwise. Glass from broken shop windows littered what was left of the streets, which were pitted with massive craters, some of which were several meters wide. Martha shuddered to think what could be left inside, forgotten. Severed limbs? Bodies, even? She pushed these thoughts out of her mind with a grimace. Even the orange-gold glow that the rest of the planet had bathed in was gone, replaced by an eerie sort of gray haze.

But indeed there was life, for even amidst the catastrophe around them, there were still a pitiful few people up and walking. Some of them looked like Martha felt—lost, afraid, horrified. Others were simply in shock, moving in a zombielike trance. Yet still others were sobbing, wailing to the heavens above them in grief.

“Oh no…please, no…it’s over, it’s all over…” one woman kept repeating, wringing her hands and looking very ill.

“My boy!” screamed another, wailing at the top of her lungs. “Exterminated, right in front of me! How could they?”

“We should go,” murmured the Doctor. Martha agreed, close to tears herself.

After a few moments of silence, the Doctor spoke. “It’s only about a mile to the citadel, now,” he said, “Let’s go.”

The following mile was much the same, only, Martha noticed, it was looking less and less chaotic as they went on.

“The Daleks,” the Doctor explained, “are moving very progressively. No, they don’t just blow it all up at once. A little bit…a little every day.”

A mile later, they were faced by the most massive stairwell Martha had ever seen. Well over a thousand steps, it led up to an even more massive, magnificent structure that was enclosed in what appeared to be an enormous glass dome.

“Now that,” said the Doctor with a touch of pride, “is the Citadel. And now we climb. Oh, there’s going to be quite a bit of climbing, I’m afraid. Well, no time to waste now. Allons-y!”

As an aside, he muttered to himself, “I just hope someone’s still up there…”

Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated
June 16, 2008

So said Mark Twain.

I’m not dead but I HAVE been working on some major additions/improvements to this site.

First off is a store located here:

You really don’t have to buy anything, it’s true. But all profits (of which there are few, CafePress being FILTHY PROFIT WHORES) will go towards improving this site. For example, getting this website a .com domain instead of a domain!

But there are some cool things there, like shirts and mugs and stuff. Check it out.

The other is a YouTube video channel.

But, at the time I am writing this, THE FIRST VLOG STILL HADN’T UPLOADED.
[edit: channel now available here. It’s not fancy but eh. Please report any problems you have with the video!]

Damn wireless internet.


On a personal note, check out what Miss Zoe got in the mail!

This came in
[I would have just put it into the blog post, but the pics were way too big. sorry!]
[Edit: Link fixed]

Ahh joy <3<3<3

Wellp. Have a Chapter 19.

Return to Gallifrey, Chapter 18
June 2, 2008


The Doctor had never appeared more afraid in all the time she’d known him, Martha thought, as they dashed madly through the jungle.

The cannons were almost unbearably loud and seemed only to get louder as they went on. Cries of fallen soldiers crashed against the trees, and an occasional stray bullet would zoom over their heads, barely missing them.


It felt as though they would never be able to stop when suddenly, the Doctor let out a cry of anguish, collapsing to the forest floor. Martha wheeled around and ran back to him. “Doctor!” she cried, “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”


“Residual—GAAH!—spectral energy. Don’t worry, I should be fi—AGH!”

Then, his voice dropping to a feeble whisper, “Help…me…”


“How, Doctor?” Martha cried, “How can I help you?”


“I need you to—guh!—hand me that yellow…that yellow…”

He could no longer continue. “Hurry!” he managed to rasp, before fading out of consciousness.


Martha might not have been a medical expert in Time Lord biology, but she knew just by looking at her friend that she had to act fast. She frantically searched around her for anything yellow, remaining wary of the approaching fire. Finally, she came up with a flower that looked like a bright-yellow cross between a daffodil and a tiger lily. She rushed over to the Doctor.


“Hey, now—it’s alright—wake up—is this what you need?”


The Doctor feebly opened his eyes. Squinting at the flower for a moment, he seized it from Martha’s hand and began to gnaw on it viciously, as would a tiger. Through a mouthful of leaf, stem, and petal, he said, “Daligrilly. Life sustaining–”

Realizing he appeared rude, he swallowed. “Sorry…it’s a life-sustaining plant for the Time Lords. Only thing that can completely restore my energy short of regeneration. Now, where were we? Oh, yes. Run!”


Maybe it was Martha’s imagination, but the gunfire surrounding them seemed less and less rapid with every passing minute. Either they were getting farther away from it or…she tried not to think too hard about the alternative. Surely the fewer people alive, the fewer people who could fire.


So lost in her thoughts was she that she failed to pay attention to her surroundings, which were suddenly changing.


“Martha,” the Doctor said hesitantly. When that failed to bring her back, he reached out and touched her shoulder. “Martha,” he said again. “Mmm?” she replied dazedly. She gasped in shock.


Around her was a city in utter chaos.

Structures that were once beautiful and intricate were crumbling before their eyes. A deathly silence lingered in the air, sending a chill down Martha’s spine.


“The Heart of Gallifrey,” whispered the Doctor sadly.

I’m NOT Dead!
June 1, 2008

Contrary to popular belief, I have not fallen over, deceased.

But I’ve been having some family problems at home as well as sheer writer’s burnout!

Add that to post-graduation letdown and I’m a bit of a mess. (You can see a few pics of the ceremony on my MySpace at . But if you add me, make sure you say you came via this blog! Also, you know, your opinion of the blog :-P)

But Chapter 18 is right on its way!

Return to Gallifrey, chapter 17
May 18, 2008


Martha was silent.

“I’m not surprised,” murmured the Doctor resignedly. “I never should have told you.”

“You tried to defend your planet,” said Martha slowly, “when you thought it was under fire. Why wouldn’t you? I’m sure I would have done the same…”


The Doctor remained quiet. Then, after a painful few seconds, he gathered his courage and looked her in the eyes. “Then, would you have run?”

He stood up. “A cowardly little novice, that’s all I was then,” he said, his voice heavy. “And Martha…there is absolutely nothing I regret more, not in my 903 years. You must understand that.”


“But Doctor,” she consoled him, “you were so young back then! Young, foolish—surely your years have taught you that? If living with that burden for nearly 600 years isn’t enough of a penance, I don’t know what is! Please, Doctor, just try to let it go.”


He was silent. “I just hope,” he said, almost inaudibly, “that the other Time Lords haven’t caught on to the ghosts yet…we’re very perceptive, you know. A message here could travel to the other end of the planet in less than thirty seconds if one of us used something called Contact. I’ve found it useful in the past…” He paused, remembering all the times he had used it to communicate with other Time Lords, and, on one occasion, with himself. Shaking his head, he said, “I just need to hope no one saw any of that. No Time Lords, anyway.”


He mustered a smile, despite his conflicts. “Well!” he said, waving vaguely at the Citadel, “We need to make it over there sometime, haven’t we? Allons-y!” Without warning, he leapt up and dashed off, Martha not far behind.


The emotional atmosphere seemed to hang in a heavy cloud around the Doctor as the pair stomped their way through the jungle. “We still need to be careful, Martha,” said the Doctor, hacking away at some vines with his Screwdriver. “It’s not over yet. In fact, we need to hurry…” he swallowed, disturbed.


Before Martha could ask him why, the familiar sound of the cannons began to resonate, louder than they had ever been. Instinctively, Martha froze. The Doctor, on the other hand, was running at full speed ahead.


“Martha, the wildlife is very nice and everything,” he shouted, stopping briefly, “but now is neither the time nor the place to admire it! They’re too close to us now! There’s no point in bypassing their radar! We need to run!”

Return to Gallifrey, Chapter 15
May 4, 2008



            That was all the Doctor could see around him. He couldn’t hear anything, either, except a kind of white noise, a noise which, he noted, was slowly filling the air and becoming almost unbearably loud. Shut UP, he wanted to shout, but no words would rise to his lips.

            Then, slowly, the noise dissipated, and he became aware of a far more distinct noise.

            Doctor,” Martha was shouting frantically, “Doctor! Can you hear me? Please! Say something! Anything!” She sounded as if she were talking into a tin can.

            The Doctor wanted to tell her that he was okay, to reach out, to do something, but he simply couldn’t move. Then, slowly, the blackness surrounding him cleared, and he was left with what looked like a dense fog.

            He still couldn’t talk, he realized. But could he move?

            With great strain, he was able to move his hand a little to the right, just far enough to touch his companion’s knee. She seemed to recognize this, however, and her face lit up.

            “You’re alive!” she said tearfully. “I thought…I thought…”

            Slowly, the Doctor shook his head. “Nevermind,” he was finally able to force out with difficulty. He paused. When he was certain he would be able to continue, he rasped, “Aloysius. That lying…cow. Where…is…he?”

            Martha looked upset. “He’s gone, Doctor,” she whispered, “he flew off with the ghosts…”

            The Doctor took in this bit of information with a deep breath and a grimace. Then, as if he’d recieved an unexpected jolt from a live electrical wire, he suddenly sat up fully, his face flushed with fury. “That stupid, othering Omega!* That lying, deceitful bastard! I hope he rots in a black star! Do you hear me? Rots!

            Never in her life had she seen the Doctor (or anyone else, for that matter) so angry. But she watched him vent, deciding it would be best for both of them if she didn’t interrupt.

            The Doctor was absolutely furious. His breath escaped him in livid gasps, eyes sunken and glazed.

            Finally, he calmed himself. “Nevermind,” he said, pacing his words carefully, “Forget about him. We’re alive, aren’t we?”

            Martha agreed. “Other than angry,” she said cautiously, “How are you feeling?”

            “Betrayed, livid, all around awful…oh, you mean physically? Weak, rather weak. But that should pass soon.”

            “Good,” Martha smiled.

            “Indeed,” said the Doctor, “because I’m going to have to tell you something I’d rather not reveal. Something you might just hate me for.”


*Gallifreyan “profanity” from the classic Who series

Return to Gallifrey, Chapter 13
April 20, 2008

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The trio was frozen once again, silent. The sound of the war cannons resonated though the nighttime desert, and the Doctor winced as the cries of each fallen Time Lord echoed in the distance, knowing that with each man who spilled his blood, his fate worsened.

After another agonizing few minutes, he released a pent-up breath, signaling to his companions that it was okay to move again.

“Close one,” murmured the Doctor distractedly. The circles under his eyes were even darker now, and he looked ready to fall over any second.

Concerned, Martha inclined her head towards Aloysius and said, “I’d like to speak to the Doctor for a moment. Alone. May I…?”

Aloysius looked reluctant, but nodded in agreement. “I should start to settle our things down for the night, anyway…” he said, almost to himself. He walked off.

“Hello, Martha!” cried the Doctor, a little too heartily, “How are you?”

“Nevermind that,” said Martha hastily, “The more important question at the moment is how you are. What’s wrong with you? And don’t give me any of that false ‘what-are-you-talking-about’ bollocks. I know something is going on that you’re not telling me, and I want to know what.”

The Doctor sighed heavily and turned to face his friend with wistful, bloodshot eyes. “Martha,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment, “Going back to this planet has made me tired, almost too tired to stay the course.” He paused for a minute, as if saying that much had been a strain.

“Every step I take in this terrain reminds me of something new, something else I didn’t even know I remembered at all. It’s like digging through a memory chest that your parents kept locked up from you. Fatigue, Martha. That’s all it is. But look!” he pointed to the nearby Citadel, “We’re almost there! So close..”

Suddenly, his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed onto the ground in back of him.

Doctor!” shrieked Martha.

He didn’t respond.

“He’s not dead,” drawled an unpleasant voice from behind Martha.

She placed an ear to the Doctor’s chest. Sure enough, both hearts were still beating, albeit more slowly.

“What’s wrong with him?” she choked, her eyes red.

“Remember how he said that he didn’t sleep…unless he really, really had to? Well, that’s about now. He has no control over it at this point. Let him sleep,” replied Aloysius sagely.

Martha nodded, but suddenly something strange occurred to her. “Wait a minute,” she said slowly, “How could you possibly have known that he said that? Those were his exact words…but you were miles off when he told me! He said so just hours before we had to run from the…” she broke off. Everything was beginning to make sense.

“It was you,” she whispered, a fire in her voice, “You sent those ghosts after him. They chased us to you, and when we found you, you called them off! And now that we’re almost there…”

Aloysius’s extraordinarily handsome face suddenly twisted into a hideous grin. “Excellent! I must say,” he cackled awfully, “I’m impressed. You’re not nearly as stupid as you look, Martha Jones. But now, I’m afraid the Doctor must die.”


Return to Gallifrey, Chapter 12
April 14, 2008

“This way,” said Aloysius airily as they traipsed though the daytime jungle, “It’s much quicker.”

The Doctor glared. “Are you insane?” he wanted to know, “Do you know what lives that way?”

“What, Doctor?” queried Martha nervously.

“Don’t be stupid,” snarled Aloysius, “they don’t come out during the day.”

What don’t come out during the day?” asked Martha again, growing anxious.

“Puh!” snorted the Doctor, “Don’t you remember what happened to Charlie?”

Having had quite enough, Martha stopped abruptly in her tracks. Facing both of them, she near-bellowed, “What’s in there, who’s Charlie, and why the hell aren’t you telling me anything?”

Both men fell silent. “Sorry, Martha,” said the Doctor sheepishly.”

Tell me what’s going on!” she snapped in reply.

The Doctor sighed and fidgeted with his collar for a moment. “Well…might as well prepare you for the worst…”

“Nonsense,” interrupted Aloysius, “You’ll frighten the young lady!”

“Excuse me, but I think I can handle it,” spat Martha in disgust. “Now, Doctor, what were you saying?”

The Doctor sighed. “What’s in there is a horde of Taclydia. Now, my thickheaded friend over here says that they don’t come out during the day, but I’m not too sure…”

“Ugh,” Martha shuddered, “Do I even want to know what they are?”

He smiled grimly. “Oh, believe me. You’ll know them when you see them.”

As if in reply, a loud shriek rattled the trees around them. The air was suddenly alive with ferocious winds, and the ground seemed to shake.

They don’t come out during the day!” mocked the Doctor coldly.

“Oh, save your high-horsery and run for it!” shouted Aloysius, who had already departed the scene, over his shoulder.

The trio dashed through the jungle as the gigantic, reptilian creature zoomed overhead, screeching madly.

“Keep running,” panted the Doctor, as if they had a choice, “because there’s a hell of a lot more where that came from!”

He was right. Following the first Taclydian were two more, possibly even larger in size. Suddenly, the Doctor had an idea. “Duck!” he shouted. Even Aloysius obeyed without question, the Doctor’s presence was so commanding. Amazingly, the Taclydia seemed to have lost track of them. Vexed, they soared away.

“Why…” Martha wheezed, “why did they just leave us alone like that?”

Having regained his breath much more quickly than his friends, the Doctor promptly explained. “Taclydia,” he informed them, “can’t see anything more than fifty feet below them. If you figure each of our heights–” he paused, then smirked slightly at Aloysius, “–actually, Al…it’s just you. You’re six feet, two inches, and exactly–” he pulled his Sonic Screwdriver out of his coat pocket, scanning Aloysius from poll to toe, “forty-five millimeters tall, which puts you at precisely forty-nine feet and eleven inches below the monsters!”

“That’s absurd!” said the Decori anxiously, “Surely a Taclydian’s senses aren’t that–

“They’re exactly that sensitive,” snapped the Doctor, “Now, if you want any of us to survive, you’ll be snaking along the jungle floor for the duration of our journey through our journey through this Godforsaken area that you selected!”

Aloysius opened his mouth to argue, but the Doctor appeared so stern that he thought it best not to argue and began to crawl.

The Doctor seemed to relish this as they traveled through the Taclydian territory. Martha even thought she saw him suppress a laugh after a quick glance at their floor-bound companion.

Aloysius, though he was without dignity, smiled to himself.